Warrior

Miran pulled his gloves on as he stepped out into the ring, knowing that his victory in the coming fight would be dependent on his talent and skill than on his power. He was a strong man, with thick muscles, but, compared to the man standing across from him, he was nothing. His opponent was more muscle than man - almost to the point that looking at him made Miran feel sick. It was hard to describe. But taking a single clean punch from that mass would be the end of the fight. Miran had to make sure to avoid that more than anything else.

The bell rang, and Miran stepped forward, his hands quickly taking a defensive pose in front of his face. His opponent lurched forward from his corner, fists immediately ready to go on the offensive, and the veins in muscles bulging in his arms and legs going into overdrive the moment he began to move. Normally, muscles like those would slow a man down considerably, making it difficult to move, but Miran wasn't about to let his guard down for a belief like that. He had seen that beast fight before. He may not have been the fastest fighter in the world, but it wasn't hard for him to knock you out with one blow.

The punches came fast and heavy, raining down towards Miran's head with precision, as Miran ducked and weaved under and around them, moving quickly and attempting to stay untouched. It only took a few seconds before Miran realized with certainty that he couldn't keep this up for even a full round without getting hit. He had to do something about it soon if he wanted to have any chance of even surviving the fight, much less winning it.

He gripped his fists tightly, feeling the glove around his fingers tighten and strain. The muscles in his arms were yearning to reach forward, to explode out as he threw a punch, but he knew the timing had to be right. There was only one way for him to take this fight if it was going to go anywhere. As another punch rained down on him, his body tightened up, and rather than ducking under, Miran leaned into the punch. The massive impact smashed into his left hand, just under his chin, and the impact shook him to his core.

But that impact was imbalanced. As his left half careened backwards from the blow, his right half shot forward. The momentum was incredible, and then he let his own muscles explode forward as he went. His fist made clean contact with his opponents chin, and he could feel that impact shoot back through his muscles as well.

His opponent staggered backwards, the blow having sent a paralyzing shockwave through his system. His legs shook, and his eyes were dazed. The blow to the chin had been remarkably precise for such a brutally rough punch, and were it not for the man's remarkable muscles, it may have broken and dislocated his jaw.

Miran knew this was his chance, and that it wouldn't last long. He exploded forward, singing hard and fast, and his opponent slowly but surely staggered backwards until Miran's fist whiffed, the man flat on his back on the ground.